Doch am Ende sind Bücher kein Luxus, sondern eine Notwendigkeit, und Lesen ist eine Sucht, von der er keinesfalls geheilt werden möchte.
An unreal world was much bigger than a real world, and there was more than enough room in it to be yourself and not yourself at the same time.
The world is so unpredictable. Things happen suddenly, unexpectedly. We want to feel we are in control of our own existence. In some ways we are, in some ways we're not. We are ruled by the forces of...
All I wanted to do was write - at the time, poems, and prose, too. I guess my ambition was simply to make money however I could to keep myself going in some modest way, and I didn't need much, I was u...
لم أكن أستطيع التفكير في سواها.تبدأ كل ليلة بالألم نفسه في جسمي،تقطع الأنفاس نفسها،الحاجة الشديدة إلى أن تلمسني مرة أخرى،وقبل أن أدرك ما يحدث،أشعر بالهجوم داخل جلدي،وكأن الأنسجة التي تجعلني متماسكا عل...
You’re a dreamer, boy, he said. Your mind is on the moon, and from the looks of things, it’s nevergoing to be anywhere else. You have no ambitions, you don’t give a damn about money, and you’retoo muc...
We find ourselves only by looking to what we’re not.
To care about words, to have a stake in what is written, to believe in the power of books - this overwhelms the rest, and beside it one's life becomes very small.
They have trapped Blue into doing nothing, into being so inactive as to reduce his life to almost no life at all. Yes, says Blue to himself, that's what it feels like: like nothing at all. He feels li...
One should never underestimate the power of books.
Just think it, and chances are it will happen.
Intellectuals suck, Nathan. They are the most boring people in the world.
If you do not consider the man before you to be human, there are few restraints of conscience on your behavior towards him.
He finds it extraordinary that on some mornings, just after he has woken up, as he bends down to tie his shoes, he is flooded with a happiness so intense, a happiness so naturally and harmoniously at...
And if Amsterdam was hell, and if hell was a memory, then he realized that perhaps there was some purpose to his being lost. Cut off from everything that was familiar to him, unable to discover even a...
A book is a mysterious object, I said, and once it floats out into the world, anything can happen.
Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever.
Განა კითხვა უხილავის საკუთარი თვალით დანახვის ხელოვნება არ არის? განა კითხვის სილამაზე იმ სიჩუმეში არაა, შენ გარშემო რომ ისადგურებს, სანამ ამბავში მთლიანად ხარ ჩაძირული? განა ამ დროს შენში ავტორის ხმა...
رجل يجد الحياة قابلة للعيش على سطح نفسه، من الطبيعي جداً أن يكتفي بإظهار سطحه للآخرين.
أحياناً أعتقد أن الموت هو الشيء الوحيد الذي نكن له أية مشاعر , إنه شكلنا الفني , الطريقة الوحيدة التي نستطيع بها أن نعبر عن أنفسنا